


Friends in Need

by jemionis travels (Jemixe712)



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, but maybe not because no one really knows because Greek gods, incest due to Greek gods?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 04:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12975465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemixe712/pseuds/jemionis%20travels
Summary: When a tragedy befalls Ares, Eros is there to help.





	Friends in Need

**Author's Note:**

> So, this could be seen as incest because Eros may or may not be Ares' son in Greek Mythology, but then that family tree is pretty much just a fallen log, so take that as you will. Second, there is a scene that could be considered dub-con by some, skip to the end notes for a spoiler to see if that is something that is okay with everyone. Otherwise, this is something I wrote almost 10 years ago, and just cleaned up some, but left pretty much unchanged.

Ares stalked down the center of the battlefield, the sound of swords clanging, men grunting in effort, screaming in pain, of bodies hitting the ground all served to make his heart pump and his blood flow faster.

He was invisible to mortal eyes, all except one mortal. He was the leader of the army Ares chose to support. The man was beautiful atop his horse, sword in one hand, reins in the other. His armor and leathers were soaked in the blood of the enemy, and there was a hard glint in his eyes, one that said he relished the fight as much as the victory. If any mortal could be his equal, this one came close.

“My Lord Ares, we will keep Hades busy this day.” 

Ares' smile was a harsh baring of teeth as he replied, “Yes.”

Once again, Ares surveyed the fighting and inhaled deeply. The scent of horse and leather, sweat and fear, blood and lust filled his lungs. He turned to his general to tell him, but before he could get any words out, he heard it, the unmistakable sound of an arrow notched and loosed. Before he could even tell from which direction it came, he saw his general, his Chosen, jerk. Those grass green eyes turned confused, then pained. And he slumped forward. 

Ares quickly dropped his sword and caught Stavros before he fell from his mount. The tip of the arrow protruded from his chest, blood coating it. It was dark blood which dripped from the tip; life's blood, heart's blood. Ares reached to break the arrow, to remove the abomination, but was cut. He drew his hand back in pained surprise. Mortal weapons could not harm him, therefore, it must have come from a god.

Rage he had never felt before consumed Ares and he looked around, searching for the murderer. He found him-Apollo. The god was standing in his chariot, bow held ready, another arrow notched, but he never fired. Instead he lowered it, then with a nod turned his chariot around and left, blending in with the rays of the sun.

A wet gurgle drew his attention back to the man in his arms. “I fear the arrow has hit my lung. I am sorry I could not finish this battle for you, Lord Ares.”

Ares brought a hand up and wiped the blood dripping from Stavros' mouth, then cupped the man's cheek.

“You have done well, General. Know that you have not only brought glory to my name but to yours as well. Know that it was not a mortal who struck you down, but a god who attacked you from behind. And know that you will enter the afterlife as my favored, as my Chosen.”

Stavros gave a weak smile and Ares listened as his breathing became more and more labored as blood filled his lungs. Blood ran out of his mouth as he replied to the War God, “Thank you my Lord.” Ares listened to Stavros' heart quicken in a vain attempt to prolong his life, then stutter to a stop, giving one last defiant pump before silencing forever.

With a howl of rage and grief, Ares gently laid Stavros down. He yelled again and despite the fact that he was supposed to be unseen and unheard by the mortals still fighting, they all paused at the feelings of uncontrolled fury. Ares was sure that even all the way on Mt. Olympus, the gods felt and heard him. 

Letting all thoughts except the thoughts of killing go, all feelings except for rage and revenge disappearing, Ares grabbed his sword and killed. He killed until there was not one of the enemy left standing or alive. Despite the win, Ares did not count this day as a victory.

Sheathing his bloody sword, Ares made his way back to Stavros. He found Hades already there. “When I heard your yell, I know the battle would be shorter than I originally thought. You do not usually interfere in such a way. What has happened Ares?”

Off all the gods, Hades never treated him with contempt; but then Hades himself wasn't held in high regard by the rest of the gods either.

“My General was murdered and died in my arms.”

Very quietly, Hades replied, “That is not the first time Ares. It is the nature of war that death occurs. Not even a god can stop it.”

Any other god, Ares would have struck down, but the only other being who understood dying better than War was Death himself. 

“But never were they murdered by a god.” Ares saw Hades' surprise as he looked down at Stavros and noticed the arrow. He bent down and inspected it.

“I know you don't tolerate interference in your realm, but I must ask. Will you see to it that Stavros' soul goes to the Elysian Fields? He was unjustly killed by a god, and he was an honorable warrior. He shouldn't be made to suffer for eternity.”

Hades was quiet for a long moment before he answered. 

“I can't.” Before the rage in Ares could grow, Hades continued. “His soul is somehow trapped. He is unable to pass on. Who did this? Who would dare to kill a mortal and trap his soul? To interfere in my realm?”

“Apollo.” The name was forced from between Ares' clenched teeth. “Is there nothing you can do? Death and spirits are your realm.”

But Hades was already shaking his head. “No, this prevents me from taking the soul. Only Apollo is able to release Stavros.”

Ares looked back down at his General, murdered before he could truly make his mark on the world. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Go back to Olympus, or one of your temples. When I am done here, we will go to Zeus. Then we will have a proper funeral for your General.”

Ares humored his uncle, but knew Zeus wouldn't do anything about it, not when it was something Apollo did to Ares. However, he was rational enough to know that he wasn't rational enough to deal with anyone right now, he'd likely kill them. With one last look at Stavros, Ares left.

 

Eros' head hurt and he rubbed his temples as he walked towards Aphrodite. She was sitting in a chair, a goblet in one hand, the other against her head and a pained expression on her face. 

“I was going to ask if you felt it too, but in retrospect, that's a stupid question. So I'll ask another. What happened? Why are we feeling this way?”

Aphrodite took a sip from her drink before answering Eros. “I don't know why, but I do know who. This is Ares. Didn't you hear that scream earlier? I thought he'd lost a war or something, but as soon as he returned here, I got this headache.”

“But I just passed Artemis and she didn't seem as affected as us. She said she just felt itchy.”

Aphrodite sighed and replied, “Heartbreak.”

“Whose?”

Aphrodite gave Eros a withering glare that nevertheless still made her look beautiful. “Ares'.”

Eros snorted but stopped when Aphrodite stood up and walked to him. His wings fluttered and he backed up. It didn't happen often, but Aphrodite had a temper that rivaled Hera's.

“Since you find the fact that Ares is in so much pain humorous, you can go find out what's wrong with him.”

Eros watched the Love Goddess smile in satisfaction at the look that must be on his face. He hoped it showed exactly what he was feeling, which was a mixture of dismay, incredulity, fear and annoyance. Ares was difficult to handle on his good days, Eros did not want to deal with him when the God of War was in a bad mood, or heartbroken.

He wanted to argue with Aphrodite, but saw that she had on her Serious and Stubborn expression, and was reminded that she was pretty much the only one of the gods Ares tolerated with any frequency. She had to be able to stand her ground.

“Fine, but when you come to collect my feathers, remember that you were the one who sent me.”

“Don't be silly, dear, just retract them.” After those pearls of wisdom, she left. 

Eros didn't like the fact that he was afraid of another god, but he was sure the others were afraid of Ares too. He was very good at his job. Still, Eros did remember a time, when he was very young, Ares had actually seemed to like him. It was Ares who taught him how to use the bow and arrows when they went hunting together. And Ares didn't seem to mind that Eros would not hit anything, and wouldn't let Ares kill too often. But, it seemed that as soon as he became an adult and was able to take up his mantle as Eros, Ares started avoiding him, disliking him even, and Eros didn't know why.

Ares' chambers on Mount Olympus were very stark and undecorated. There weren't any statues or tapestries, no frivolous furniture or superfluous knick-knacks. In fact, it didn't seem as if the God of War lived here at all. So, Eros was more than a little surprised to actually find Ares standing near a window, arms crossed, deep in thought. 

“I didn't expect anyone to be brave enough to come here. I know the halls are uncomfortable right now. What do you want...Cupid?”

Eros glared at Ares for the name. Why the Romans had to choose such a lame name.

“Aphrodite sent me. She has a headache, I have a headache, Artemis is itchy; I've been sent to find out what's wrong.”

His tone of voice made it clear Eros wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. He didn't mean to seem rude, but Ares made his feel like an untried youth, instead of a powerful god in his own right. A heavy sigh surprised Eros and he took a step nearer.

“Go away, Eros. Tell Aphrodite to mind her own business.”

Eros frowned, confused. Ares didn't sound angry. He sounded almost defeated. Could Aphrodite have been right? Very carefully, Eros lowered his barriers and let the effects of Ares' emotions wash over him. He staggered back at the feelings coming from the other god. First and foremost was rage, followed closely by grief, and finally-Aphrodite was partially right-heartbreak.

“Have you had your fill yet? Go away before I decide to let loose the hold on my anger.”

“Ares, what happened?”

Eros didn't know if Ares would have answered, or if he was going to make good on his threat, because at that instant, Hades appeared. Eros was only mildly surprised the two got along. Hades was liked by the rest of the Olympians only slightly more than Ares. 

The two were similar in appearance. Both were tall, with dark hair-Ares' was deep mahogany and Hades' was almost black. Both had blue eyes, but Hades' were pale and icy, where Ares' were a deep midnight. Both wore black, but Hades' wore loose clothing of softer materials, Ares preferred the leathers and armors favored by warriors. Hades' skin was pale, like marble while Ares' was golden, testimony to the long hours he spent in the sun.

“We must go to Zeus and tell him of what Apollo has done.”

Ares nodded and Eros was sure his own presence was forgotten. Without a word to him, the two disappeared. Shortly thereafter, a confused and annoyed Eros left too.

He found Aphrodite in her gardens playing with the Graces. He sat down next to her ad let out a heavy sigh.

“Whatever is the matter, dear one?”

“Ares really doesn't like me.”

A gentle hand threaded through his hair, tucking the stray stands behind an ear, then traced his jaw. “Nonsense, Eros. What's not to love?”

Eros snorted. ‘He used to like me, or at least tolerate me when I was young. What changed?”

Aphrodite smiled, but before she could answer a bell rang in the distance. It was Zeus' and it meant he wanted all of the major twelve gods there to attend him. Sharing a quizzical glance with Aphrodite, they both left for Zeus' meeting hall. 

It was a large and cavernous room. There was a circle of seats and each god and goddess had a specifically assigned one. Only Zeus' was raised and at the head of the circle. In the center was a podium. Eros had once heard Dionysus complain at the pretentiousness of it. He had to agree but it certainly made a statement.

Once everyone was seated, Zeus' voice boomed through the chamber.

“It has been brought to my attention that not only has one god interfered with the chosen of another, but that chosen was struck down and his soul imprisoned.”

Gasps echoed around the chamber. To imprison a soul was an unthinkable act.

“Who was the God, and the chosen?”

“The name of the chosen is Stavros, and the God is Ares.”

Eros' eyes widened at the revelation, it explained the heartbreak. When Ares name was mentioned, and that it was his chosen killed, the other gods' sympathy vanished. Eros watched as Ares' face closed off even more, becoming like a statue. The others all started talking loudly over one another. They all said the same things-that Ares' chosen deserved to die, that he had no honor if he followed Ares.

It was Hades who stood up and quieted all the other gods. He wasn't liked, but he was respected for his power. 

“This is not only a travesty against Ares, but also the mortal, who does not deserve to have his soul imprisoned, regardless of which god he followed. But it also intrudes in my territory. I want that soul released so that he may be judged. In my realm.” 

That quieted the others quickly.

“Hades is correct. No mortals' soul deserves this, regardless of the god he has chosen to serve. Whomever has done this heinous crime, come forward.”

No one stepped forward and confessed to the deed. Zeus turned to Ares and asked, “Do you know who did it? Did you see?”

Eros watched Ares struggle with the answer and didn't blame him. A history of being maligned, hated, and mistrusted was bound to make the great God of War wary of accusing another god.

“Yes, I saw who did it. Stavros was killed by an arrow forged by Hephaestus.”

Ares paused here. There were many gods who had arrow forged by Hephaestus, even Eros himself.

"It was Apollo. He shot Stavros from the hill behind him. He stood in his chariot and I saw him.”

Artemis immediately stood, defending her twin, and Athena stood as well, calling Ares a liar.

“Silence.” Zeus' voice echoed in the chamber, causing even the walls to vibrate.

“Ares, do you still have the arrow? That way, we may solve this matter once and for all.”

It was Hades who answered. “I have the arrow.” He handed it to Zeus, who bent to examine the weapon.

“This arrow does indeed contain the soul of Stavros, however, it is not one of Apollo's arrows. Rather, it belongs to Athena.”

“What? Impossible! I would never lower myself to kill a mortal in the back.”

Zeus smiled kindly at Athena and placated her, “I know, my dear. The arrow is yours, but not the essence on it. No, the one who shot the arrow was Apollo.”

The accused god stood and made his way to the podium. He glared at Ares, then looked at Zeus.

“Why, Apollo? Why would you risk Ares' wrath? He had every right to seek vengeance without coming here. Why would you shoot a mortal in the back and trap his soul?”

“I watched Stavros since he was a small boy. He became gravely ill and I healed him. He grew up to be an intelligent and beautiful man, one who would have been perfect for my temple. But instead of choosing me, he went to Ares. Ares didn't care about Stavros, not until he learned what a great warrior Stavros was. He didn't care about the gentle soul, or the passionate man-only the killer. And if Stavros had continued to follow Ares, his soul would have been tainted. I couldn't let that happen.”

“Why did you trap his soul?”

At this, Apollo lowered his head in regret. “I did not intend for that to happen.”

Zeus sighed, “Do you know how to fix it?”

Apollo shrugged and said, “Break it?” But Athena immediately said not to.

“Breaking the arrow will cause the soul to be lost forever. Give me the arrow, I will release the soul, then Ares, you may give your chosen a proper funeral.”

Zeus nodded and Athena left.

“Apollo will be punished. One lifetime as a mortal. You will be born, live and die as a mortal, with no memory of having been a god. When you die, you will return to your place here on Olympus. Maybe then, you will learn to appreciate life.”

Apollo nodded, accepting his punishment, and the hall cleared, leaving only Hades, Ares and Eros. Hades rested his hand on Ares shoulder.

“I will stay with Athena, then we will give your warrior his funeral.”

Ares nodded and Hades left. Eros walked closer to Ares.

“I don't need your pity.”

“I don't have any to give. But, maybe you need my compassion instead.”

Ares whirled around at that and faced Eros, a vicious scowl on his face. It only deepened when Eros didn't flinch.

“I don't want it.”

Eros could be just as stubborn as Ares, and maybe the War God should see that.

“Tough. Look, I know what you're feeling.”

“Keep your empathetic drivel to yourself, Eros. I don't want to hear anything about it. Just go away.”

Eros took a step closer and said, “No. Ares, it hurts me that you're hurting. I don't like it that you're hurting. Let me help you, let me do what I can.”

“You have no idea what you're offering, of what you're getting yourself into.” By the time Ares was finished talking, he had Eros pinned to the back of a chair, and those weapon-roughened hands were threaded through Eros' curls.

Eros eyes flashed red and he'd noticed Ares' grip falter at that.

“Not know what I'm getting myself into? You don't think I can handle to God of War? That I can't understand you? What is war but a form of passion? And I am the God of Passion. And what of my arrows? Or is it normal for a Love God to use a weapon? Trust me Ares, I know exactly what I am doing. The question is, do you know what you're doing?”

Ares merely smiled a vicious smile and his fingers tightened their hold. He yanked Eros' head back and leaned closer to whisper in an ear. “Remember you said that, that you taunted the God of War.”

With a sharp nip to that ear, Ares pulled back, his hands going to the fastenings of his leather trousers. Eros' eyes were riveted to the sight.

Ares waist was narrow and his stomach toned; the skin tanned. Eros' eyes followed the trail of dark hair to where more was being slowly revealed by Ares. When Ares' cock was released, it was all Eros could do to keep from licking his lips. 

The God of War was truly a magnificent specimen of maleness. He felt a pressure on his shoulders, but when he didn't respond quickly enough, the pressure became more forceful. Eros' head was tilted back, and a wet bluntness was press against his lips. 

“Take it.”

Eros immediately opened to it and nearly moaned at the taste. He didn't have long to enjoy it because Ares' hands held Eros' head still has he fucked his mouth.

If Ares meant to take out his aggression on Eros, he was sadly mistaken. Eros was made for pleasure, for sex and passion. Eros could take it, would take whatever Ares gave and gladly. He felt Ares' thumbs trace his lips stretched around the invading cock.

Eros raised his hands and grasped onto Ares' hips, sliding down to Ares' thighs before reaching around to grab the War God's ass. He pulled Ares flush against his face, swallowing around Ares' penis. He felt the muscles in that ass tense, felt those thighs tremble, and his hands shake.

“No. I'll not spend myself that easily or that soon.”

He yanked Eros up and leaned into him. Eros was half hoping Ares would kiss him, but instead, he reached around and pulled the chair away from the table, then turned Eros around and bent him over it. Ares ran an appreciative hand down Eros' back and over his ass.

“You were definitely made to inspire a man's lust.” He pushed Eros' shirt up and pulled his trousers down.

“Step out of them, I'll not have them impeding this.”

Eros hurried to comply. He felt Ares slide his finger along his crack, then trace around his hole. Eros expected Ares to just thrust right in, regardless of Eros' own discomfort. However, he was surprised when the War God muttered a curse, then reached for the olive oil on the table, using that for lubrication. He then thrust two fingers in and Eros shameless pushed back, trying to ride the digits.

A dark chuckle sounded in Eros' ear, there wasn't anything nice about it. 

“You're so easy.”

Eros glared back, or tired to when the recipient currently had two fingers in his ass.

“One of us has to be.”

Abruptly, Ares pulled his fingers out and thrust his cock in. Eros let out a long, throaty moan. Ares immediately set a ruthless rhythm, hands gripping hard enough to bruise even a god. Eros' own dick was slapping against the table, and that only added to the pleasure.

Ares pulled Eros up, chest flush against back. One hand reached up and spread over Eros' heart, then pinched a nippled at the same time he bit the side of Eros' neck. 

The Love God didn't know how long it all lasted. All he knew was Ares' body, hot and hard against his; heavy panting breaths in his ears, the center of his world was the cock thrusting in and out of him. Zeus himself could have walked in and Eros would have cursed him. When he came, Eros felt as if the very essence that made him a god left him, only to be replaced when he felt Ares' seed fill him. 

Ares reached down and caressed Eros, spreading the cooling semen, he fondled his sac, and reached behind them, sharply pinching and rotating his own hips.

“We're not finished.” With that, they disappeared to Ares' chambers.

Later, much later, Eros found himself on his back, Ares settled between his thighs, still buried inside him, his forehead resting against Eros', their breaths mingling. Ares was mostly still, only small, almost gentle thrusts to remind both of them of their position.

Eros lick his lips, the tip of his tongue barely touching Ares' lips, and suddenly he was frustrated. Sure he was the god of love, passion and sex, but he wanted more than that. Despite everything they'd done, all the different ways Ares had taken him, they had yet to kiss. Ares had always held a special place in Eros' heard, and he felt, no he knew that a kiss would open a door, break a wall, do something that would change his relationship with Ares.

Thinking only of that, Eros reached up and touched his lips to Ares'. Immediately, the War God gave in, seemingly content to let Eros control it. The kiss was gentle.

In that moment of distraction, Eros pushed against Ares' shoulders and rolled them so he was on top. He watched Ares' eyes narrow, but kissed him before he could think too much. He grabbed Ares' hands and placed them on the headboard.

“Leave them there.” It was given as a teasing sort of order, letting Ares know he didn't' have to do it. But he did, even lifting an eyebrow in inquiry, maybe even challenge. And there was even a half smirk tugging at his lips.

Eros sat back, his hands slowly trailing over Ares' chest as he did so. Not breaking eye contact, he brought his hands to his own body, deciding to give Ares a show.

He rolled his nipples, then licked the palm of one and and traced it down the center of his body. When he reached his cock, he gripped it. With his other hand, he cradled his balls. All the while, Eros slowly rotated his hips. He sent Ares a saucy wink before giving himself over to the sensations

Eros felt it as Ares grasped his hips, just holding, not guiding. Eros looked and saw the War God's eyes glazed over; so different from when they started. Eros rode him faster and harder, clenching his inner muscles on Ares' penis. And Eros was close, so close to coming and it felt different than the other times.

Ares pushed Eros' hands away and took over jerking him, motions in time with the movements of their hips. Eros leaned forward and mashed their mouths together in a messy, sloppy, beautiful kiss. Tongues twines, teeth clashed, saliva swirled, breath mixed.

Eros watched himself as he came, his semen coming in milky white spurts on Ares' stomach, that tanned hand tugging every last drop out. Then he felt Ares' warmth filling him. He collapsed on the bed next to Ares, both breathing hard.

“I think you've managed to tired me out.”

Eros received a tired chuckle and a reply of, “Me too.”

“Go to sleep, Ares. You need it. I'll be here when you need me.”

The next day, on the very field he was struck down, Ares and Hades made a funeral pyre, and on it was Stavros. In the background stood Eros, watching over it all. When it was over, Eros noticed that Ares didn't feel heartbreak any longer. Oh, he was never in love with Stavros, but he was enamored with the warrior. He won Ares' respect, which was hard to do.

Eros watched as Hades and Ares finished cleaning up. Hades put a hand on Ares' shoulder before disappearing, but Ares stayed.

“So, you not only figured out what was wrong, but you helped to fix it. Good job.”

Eros looked at Aphrodite and asked, “What do you know of it?”

“Now, why would you ask that? Maybe one day, you should go visit the Fates.” 

Before Eros could ask anything about that, she left.

“Was that Aphrodite? What did she want?”

Eros reached up to pull Ares down for a kiss, which Ares allowed.

“I have no idea.”

“That is so like her.” Ares paused and listened to something far off. “I have to go.”

Eros smiled and said, “Of course. I have my job to do too. Just call me when you need me.”

He gave Ares one last kiss before he left.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a part where Eros confronts Ares and it is implied that it will be comfort through sex, and Ares can be seen as being rough and forceful. While it is completely consensual on everyone's part, it can sill be seen as not explicitly stated consent and Ares forcing Eros to submit to the sex.


End file.
